


Stealing the Future

by Soquilii9



Category: Leverage
Genre: Foster Care, Future, Gen, Thief, Waif, death of brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 20:03:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12306717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soquilii9/pseuds/Soquilii9
Summary: A bit of Parker's storyBased on The Future Job and other episodes





	Stealing the Future

Bill, her foster father, was a smoker as well as a harsh disciplinarian.  She hated the smell on his fingers.  While she could deftly dodge his striking hand, she couldn’t avoid the fanned air that reached her nostrils, making the inside of her nose burn.  This was her fourth foster home and the worst of the lot.  The woman was fairly kind to her, but her husband…not so much.

Time and again he took her things away from her after real or imagined transgressions.  The final straw came when, after she’d gone without lunch to save money - pilfered money from her classmates’ lockers - dipped into friends’ piggy banks and even checked under street grates for lost coins - she’d managed to buy a stuffed rabbit.  It was hers - something she could cuddle at night instead of having Nick with her, because her brother was gone.  She had nothing else.  Her foster father had rudely snatched it away from the ten-year-old, saying, ‘You thought I wouldn’t find this?  You don’t get a bunny until you do what I say.  So be a good girl, or…I don’t know…a better thief.’

_He thought I stoled it!_ Parker thought, vowing revenge.  _All I did was steal the money to buy it!_   _I’m gonna get it back.  I’ll get it back._

Not long after that, her foster parents went to the grocery, leaving her alone in the house for a few hours.  Taking advantage of the opportunity, she stuffed her few clothes in a small backpack and began a systematic search of the house for her bunny and other things Bill had taken from her.  All she found was the bunny.

Parker had already made long-burning matches – wrapping them tightly in fluffy toilet paper and soaking them in candlewax.  She pushed a handful of them into a lump of Play-Do stuck to the dining room table and lit them.  Now she extinguished the pilot light in the gas oven and turned all four burners and the oven on, full blast.  She opened all the jets to the gas heaters.  She had just enough time to reach the sidewalk before the house blew.

She hadn’t killed anyone, she had her bunny in her arms and she’d escaped.  Smiling, she walked away from the foster system forever, bent on becoming a street urchin, with the confidence that she could support herself with theft – money, food, clothing, whatever she needed - by any means necessary.  She wouldn’t voluntarily remember anything until a charlatan who claimed he could read minds brought it all back.

~~~~~

Nick was eight years old.  He and his sister, who from an early age had decided to drop everything but her surname, were in the yard of their second foster home.  It was a good home, and the older couple who fostered them were kind.  They saw that the children in their charge had everything they needed and then some; in fact, Nick had just received a bicycle for his birthday, and his nine-year-old sister promised to show him how to ride it.  The sidewalks in front of the house were made to order for the adventure.

‘Look, just sit on it Nicky.  Get your balance,’ instructed Parker, patiently.

‘I’m gonna fall off!’

‘No, you’re not.  I’ve got you.’  Parker held the wobbling bike steady.  She was strong for her age.

‘Maybe I should get some of those little wheels.  You know, the kind that –‘

‘You don’t _need_ ‘em Nick!  You can do this.  Now, balance yourself!  I’m gonna push and you steer.  Don’t pedal yet.’

Her system worked.  She walked swiftly beside him holding onto the seat and guiding the handlebar when Nick faltered.  As she felt the bike more and more under his control, she eased her grip.

‘You’ve almost got it.  Now you’re gonna pedal and I’ll hold the bike rack.  Just don’t go too fast.  Okay, go!’

Nick set his feet on the pedals and gripped the handlebars.  The pedals slowly made their first revolution.  Parker could feel the tension in the bike frame.  Nick was trembling with fear.

‘You’re doing it.  You’re doing it.  I won’t let you fall.  I won’t let anything happen to you.  Keep pedaling!’

The seconds ticked by.  Nick was gaining confidence and speed, going a little faster and a little faster until Parker couldn’t keep up with him anymore.  Silently she released the bike rack.  Nick was riding on his own!  She was just about to squeal in glee when he toppled, luckily landing on the thick grass of their neighbor’s yard.  Parker went to help him up.

‘Are you hurt?’

‘No.  Where were you?  I fell!’

‘Yeah, but you were riding by _yourself_ there at the last!’

‘I _was_?’

‘You bet.  You did it, Nick.  Wanna try again?’

‘ _Sure_!’  Nick’s face broke out in a wide grin.

‘Okay, here we go.  Let’s turn around; the folks don’t want us riding too far out of sight.’

She steadied him on the bike and held the bike rack until he got his balance.  After she released him, he started picking up speed, too much; and the bike bounced across the grassy easement, bumped over the curb and into the street, narrowly missing a parked car.

‘ _Nick!  Slow down_!’  Parker, horrified, ran after him.

Another car passed by the one that was parked, invisible until it suddenly appeared, too late for Parker to help, too late for Nick to avoid.  The crushed bike tossed Nick from its seat and both disappeared beneath the car’s frame.

Parker screamed and kept screaming.  Her stunned eyes took in everything as if in a haze:  her foster mother running toward her.  The driver of the car stumbling out of the vehicle, in shock and white-faced.  Sirens could be heard in the distance.  There was a frenzy of activity, uniformed men rushing about, loading Nick onto a metal bed and whisking him away in a big square white truck while police officers talked to everybody standing around.  Hysterical, Parker kept screaming.

A doctor kept her sedated for several days.  She was not allowed to go to the funeral.  Parker never got the chance to say goodbye.  Nick was just…gone.  She was gone, too, moved to yet another foster home.

Parker locked away her past.  Locked away the memories, the happy times.  She never mentioned her brother again, not to anyone, and she vowed she’d never allow anyone else to take anything away from her.  Not ever.

~~~~~

Some years into her future, someone would teach her more skillful ways to take anything she wanted.  Even better, what she took, she could keep.  That someone would become her mentor, her teacher; even taking on the role of father.  He was one of only a handful of men she would ever learn to trust:  Archie Leach.

Parker had made her way to New York City where she passed him on the street one day, deftly lifting his wallet.  A master thief himself, he caught her in the act.  Instead of collaring and turning her over to the authorities, he took her under his wing.  He saw her potential and he taught her everything he knew, from honing her skills as a pickpocket to defeating laser grid security systems and safecracking.  She learned how to handle a gun, how to dangle from the side of a building and cut her way through glass and steel.  Now, instead of shoplifting Hershey bars and lunchmeat, she went after cash and jewelry.  Her reputation among con men and international jewel thieves grew.

The jobs got bigger; scores in the millions.  A loner, she agreed to take a job for Victor Dubenich, working with two other thieves.  This led her to the one of the few other men she would learn to trust:  Nate Ford.  She became part of his team.  Her skills were redirected toward a better future.

Some years later, Ford’s team took down Dalton Rand, a con artist and fraudulent psychic in Boston.  This was the man who brought the past back to Parker, hurting her so deeply she wanted him dead.

Eliot, another trusted individual, would have been happy to kill the man for Parker.  Hardison, who provided her with the love she so badly needed, also thought he should be shot.  Nate, however, assisted by Eliot, Hardison and Tara destroyed him so completely, he probably wished himself dead.  This gave Parker the satisfaction she craved.

Her team had avenged her.  She felt at peace.  She didn’t have to fear the past anymore.

 

THE END


End file.
